


the fastest way to a boys heart is through his chest

by kitchensink



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Manipulation, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitchensink/pseuds/kitchensink
Summary: The police - his friends! The men and women he worked with daily! - looked down at him as they questioned: "Were you involved? Did you know? Could you have stopped him?" And even though the truthful answer every time was his stuttered, low voiced and shy, "no," guilt still boiled.It still boils.





	the fastest way to a boys heart is through his chest

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: **JAIL + SYMPATHETIC**

It's been 

months.

Actually, it feels more like years have gone by - the rush of people invading Alec's home, the new faces, things he had learned about Abel. He doesn't like to think about that last part; sometimes the thoughts turn so sickening they make him vomit. 

( he misses abel so it's actually a blessing to - ) 

The police - his friends! The men and women he worked with daily! - looked down at him as they questioned: "Were you involved? Did you know? Could you have stopped him?" And even though the truthful answer every time was his stuttered, low voiced and shy, "no," guilt still boiled.

It still boils.

So he avoids it.

( - see him even if he looks miserable and even skinnier than - )

Continuously.

Any mention of the name is met with a fast, sharp, "Shut up." Or a hiss of disapproval. Isaiah's learned that it's a topic not to be breached, unless Alec has inhaled one too many alcoholic beverages and is ready to weep into his friend's shoulder like a scared child. 

All of Abel's belongings had been long discarded, some sold by Isaiah on the internet for profit but most others taken by Alec himself and burned. The only thing that remained was a few of Abel's childhood toys that, for the sole reason of them being from a time when Abel could be considered innocent, Alec kept. 

( - before and oh god is he going to throw up it feels like he's going to - ) 

It has been months, or what feels like years, since they've been face to face.

So, to be completely frank, Alec feels 

weird.

Anxiety feels like a thick coat on his shoulders as he taps his fingers on the metal table separating them. He feels a strange mix of emotions in his stomach, settling like a fat boulder. He clears his throat, keeps his eyes down so he can only see the tips of Abel's white fingers. It feels like a million eyes are on him, and he supposes that there are, hidden behind a two-sided mirror.

He doesn't even know what to say! Alec clenches his eyes shut for a moment.

( - throw up he's really really going to lose it he can't be here he cannot be here right n - ) 

"Did you get your clothes out of the basement?" 

Abel's voice - it's been months! it feels like years! - snaps Alec's train of thought right in half. He chokes on nothing, opens his eyes and for the first time be eye to eye with theserialkillerpsychopathhomocidalbeautifulamazingperfect -

With Abel.

And he smiles. "I tried to leave them in the corner out of all the," he waves his hand a little, jokingly, "carnage."

Alec winces.

The clothes happened to be a pair of Alec’s old high school track shorts and a ratty grey v-neck he’d slept in and evidently left over the first time he’d spent the night at Abel’s. He hadn’t seen them since. Apparently, they had became Abel’s go-to post-murder clean-up clothes.

"Thanks. Yeah. I have them. Had them. I threw them out," he admits quickly. It seems like a shameful act, but at the time it had been after he'd refused to take them off for nearly a week. Isaiah had to rip the articles of clothing off of him and toss them out, all while Alec wailed, clothed only in his underwear, on the floor of his living room.

Abel scoffs. "Rude."

"Yeah," he agrees automatically, nodding his head. "Rude." 

They fall back into silence, but now it's different. Abel holds Alec's gaze in his, green eyes wide and bright. Curious. He looks cat-like, and it only becomes more prominent when he leans across the table, just a little bit. 

( alec is on fire inside and out his stomach is flipping and he - )

Voice barely above a whisper Abel asks, “Did you miss me?”

It is a 

loaded question.

Alec doesn’t know what to say again, but he keeps his gaze even with Abel’s. Fingers twitching across the cool metal he eventually forces out a stiff, “You’re not supposed to lean over the table. They could cut our meeting short.” He doesn’t add how sad that would make him, but he doesn’t think he stops his face from falling at the thought. He’s never been good at controlling his expressions.

This is something Abel knows, and knows well, so it’s hardly a surprise when he leans back in his chair. “Of course, sweetheart, of course. I wouldn’t, want our meeting cut short, would I?” he feigns sadness, pressing the flat of his palm to his chest and batting his eyes. “That would make me  
sad. I haven’t, seen you, since, since, well! Since that morning, before you left for work.” 

Alec feels mortified, looking at the pane of glass which hides dozens of eyes, all pointed directly at him. He tries to shake the grimace off of his face, “I was called on the tip. I thought it was a joke when they gave me the my own address.” It’s his best option to try and change the topic, but from the unwavering, shark-sharp smile on Abel’s face he knows it’s pointless. The glint in the gingers eye isn’t joy in seeing him it’s joy

in finally getting to fuck with him again.

( - cannot believe he was talked into doing such a thing as this it’s the last thing he needs fuck everyone who said it would - ) 

"You," Abel drawls, “were so intent, on not going in, that day.” His smile doesn’t waver for a second. “In fact, you were so set in your ways, if I remember correctly,” his hands are twitching enticingly across the metal, “that you wouldn’t even get out of bed and you were begging me to -” and it’s been months! It’s been years!

“Shut. Up,” Alec snaps, putting his hand down flat and hard on the table. Abel jumps backwards at the sound it makes, then opens his mouth to immediately shoot back a response which Alec quickly snatches up and chews into dust. “I’m not here to talk about that. I don’t want to think about you that way anymore. I don’t think about you that way anymore. You’ve ruined that.” He doesn’t say it as an insult, and his voice dips near the end of the sentence. He doesn’t care to cover up the shame in his voice any longer.

This, however, gets Abel quiet, at least for a moment. His smile has slipped off of his face. They still sit across from each other, eye to eye,

face to face,

so  
so  
so

quiet.

The silence stretches for what feels like hours, but what is probably only minutes. Finally, breaking the tension, Alec says, “That doesn’t mean I don’t think about you.” And it feels like about the stupidest thing he could say, so it probably is, and he remembers the eyes, and the glass, and feels nothing but shame, shame, shame. He curls his fingers into his palm and furrows his eyebrows as his stomach twists.

( - help him he just wants to help abel he wants to protect abel that’s all he’s ever wanted so when he fails - )

Abel takes his time mulling over a response, but eventually shrugs. “I would be, more surprised if you didn’t,” he says with a little nod. Though he doesn’t say anything else, it feels like he’s holding back. Alec tries not to acknowledge it, desperately just trying to get out what he came here to get out. To finally spill his guts. 

He takes a breath.

( it still boils )

( it still boils )

“You ruined my life.”

( it’s been months! )

His voice is shaking. Abel’s face has contorted. He doesn’t look away.

( it still boils )

“You just want someone to play games with. Someone who will just give you whatever you want, and I guess I was really willing to do that.” 

( he avoids it )

Abel launches forward, “that’s, that’s what you think of me? Because I killed a few people, you think, I just stuck around you to play… games? How retarded do I look, Alec? That, that would have been a waste of my time! I stayed because - “

( continuously )

“Because you needed an alibi! Because you needed me to cover your ass! Because,” Alec cuts him off, voice louder than his, more authoritative, “your twisted concept of “love” is using people to get whatever the fuck you want.” He stands. 

( it’s been years! )

Abel stares up at him, wide eyed. He watches as Alec gathers himself and prepares to leave, quiet until he turns to go, “why did you even, come here, just to rile me up? Some, weird shit suggested by, your therapist, and endorsed by your cop buddies, and Isaiah? Pathetic.”

( itstillboilsitstillboils

it

boils  
)

Alec doesn’t want to give him another look, but he does. The strange jumble of emotions in his stomach as dissipated. The anxiety has slipped off of his shoulders. “I came because I wanted you to know that no matter what, no matter how bad I know you’ve been, or how everyone sees you,” he blinks, looking down, down, down. Abel looks so small.

( skinnierandmiserableanddifferent )

“I feel nothing but sympathy towards you.”

( its been months! )

( its been years! )

Alec leaves without another word.

( and it still boils )


End file.
